


Warts, fangs and all

by Multifandom_damnation



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Attempted Sexual Assault, Blood Drinking, Canon Jewish Character, Daylighter Simon Lewis, Drunkenness, Family Dynamics, Gen, Protective Siblings, Protective Simon Lewis, Rebecca Lewis is a Good Sister, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:08:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27974174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multifandom_damnation/pseuds/Multifandom_damnation
Summary: Five times Rebecca Lewis saw her brothers fangs and the one time she was glad that she didn't.
Relationships: Rebecca Lewis & Simon Lewis
Comments: 8
Kudos: 25





	Warts, fangs and all

**Author's Note:**

> Gosh, I love Simon and Rebecca, but there aren't nearly enough fics about their relationship and sibling bond, so I just felt compelled to write this. This might seem a little rushed but I did my best haha. Hope you like it!!

**1.**

"Show me," she griped, leaning across his lap with her head in the crook of his arm. "Show me."

Maybe she'd had a little too much to drink, but honestly, she couldn't be blamed. Simon's friends really knew how to host an elaborate party, and when a party this luxurious had its own bartender who served each attendee expensive and delicious drinks, she didn't feel the slightest bit guilty about drinking so much booze. It was alright to indulge every now and then, right? Maia had shared unreadable looks with Simon each time she handed Rebecca another drink, but she wasn't phased. Why serve alcohol if you didn't want anyone to drink it?

Now, she lounged on the couch with Simon, her legs resting over the arm of it. Their very glittered host had told her it was an expensive, discontinued model from Russia crafted many centuries ago, but she could only laugh at his eccentricities and wander away to find someone who spoke a language she could understand. Simon had reluctantly allowed her to make herself comfortable against his lap. He had a dark glass of red wine in his hand, and he was struggling to keep it from spilling with all her rapid movement. 

"Show me," she whined again, poking him in the stomach.

He rolled his eyes at her. "Becky, I'm not going to show you. It's not a party trick. You're being silly now. People are going to think you're a freak."

"Oh, I'm the freak, am I?" Rebecca retorted. "The bartender is a werewolf, our host is a warlock, my brother is a vampire, and his friends are angel-blooded demon-hunters. I'm the only normal one here."

Simon had to bite his lip to stop from laughing at her. He was cold beneath her, despite the many layers he was wearing in the over-heated apartment. She was dimly aware of some of his friends staring at him, Clary and that blonde boy of hers, and the girl Simon looks at sometimes with doe-eyes when he thinks nobody is looking. "I mean, I suppose that's true. They already think I'm weird, they don't need to think that it's a genetic thing," he smacked her leg. "And get your feet off the couch. Don't you remember Magnus telling you that it's like, one of a kind, centuries-old, Russian make or something?"

She stuck her tongue out at him. He rolled his eyes. "Please?" she whined, tugging at his shirt. Despite the uncomfortable position he had to be in, he still hadn't moved.

"If you keep acting like that, people are going to start thinking that I'm the older sibling and that you're the annoying brat," he said affectionately. He reached down and brushed a tangled clump of hair out of her face.

"Even if the roles were reversed, you'd _still_ be the older sister," she pouted petulantly at him. "Show me. _Simon_. Please? For your favourite sister?"

He laughed softly at her, and gently rested a hand across her chest. When she touched the back of his hand, she was once again stunned by how cold he was, like he had been sifting through the freezer for a while, and just how much things had changed. He leaned over her, close enough that she could smell the cologne he had put on before they left his apartment for this admittedly overwhelming party, and she watched as slowly, his pointed fangs dropped down from where they hid in his gums and they shone brightly in the dim light of the dazzling party.

She started at him for a moment, awed before she reached up to touch them.

Snorting, he pulled back and swatted her hand away as she flicked at one of the fangs. "Ew, Beccy," he laughed. "What are you sticking your fingers in my mouth for?"

"I don't know. I just want to know how they work," she said. "Like, are they real? Like, as real as your other teeth?"

"Of course they're real, Becky," Simon said. "I don't wear clip-on fangs every time I have to feed."

"I don't know what you do. You could. I never see it," she defended. "If I turned into some sort of creature right out of a comic book, wouldn't you want to see what I could do as well?"

Simon rolled his eyes again but notably didn't answer. "Come on, let's get you home before you puke all over Magnus's very expensive furniture. He's mad enough as it is that you spilled vodka on his favourite rug."

Yawning, she stretched out across him, a full, toes-pointed stretch. "Anybody who has a favourite rug is a weirdo, and I don't know why anyone would buy expensive furniture if they lived in constant fear of people using it. That's the point of furniture, right? To be sat on and used?"

"I wouldn't say that to Magnus's face if I were you," he warned with a smile. "Are you ready to get going?"

"Fine," she said after a moment of thought. "But you're going to have to carry me back."

He laughed so hard that she felt it in her very bones, a familiar vibration that she hadn't realized how much she missed until she finally had it back. "Wow, needy much? Even sober, I forgot how high-maintenance you are."

Outraged, she smacked him in the chest, and he tossed his head over the back of the couch and roared in laugher. "High-maintenance? Simon Lewis, how dare you."

"Calm down," he chuckled as he waved goodbye to his friends. "If you're well behaved, I'll even show you my fangs again. But only if you don't stick your fingers in my mouth."

**2.**

Rebecca was already seated at Simon's tiny dining table when he eventually wandered out of his bedroom, grunted at her in greeting, and buried his head in the fridge. "Good morning, sleepyhead," Rebecca chimed, overly cheerfully, just to piss him off. "How did you sleep? Well, I hope. Maybe you'll be in a better mood today, hm?"

She was met by the sound of clinking and shuffling as Simon ignored her in favour of shifting through the fridge, shoving things out of the way in his hunt for something unknown. She had gone through a lot of effort to avoid digging too deeply through the fridge, especially when she realized how little he had in there, and she really didn't want to stumble across something she didn't want to see first thing in the morning, like a severed head or a dead rat or something. "I couldn't sleep through all your snoring," Simon's voice was muffled with his head deep within the fridge. "It was like a steam train. I think my whole apartment shook. I thought it was an earthquake."

"Very funny," she said as she sipped at her coffee. "It's not my fault you have heightened-hearing. And I think that's something that comes from dads side of the family, anyway. Why is your fridge so empty?"

"Because I drink blood, Becky," he sounded almost impatient. "I can't eat any food unless it's got blood mixed in, so I would much rather go out to eat and have someone else do that for me, instead of wasting blood on terrible food."

"Hm," she rose her eyebrows as he made a triumphant sound. "Is that why you're having a hard time finding so-called blood right now?"

He re-emerged from within the fridge with a package in his hand and slammed the door shut. Metal bottles and glass jars clinked together inside. He held a grease-stained paper bag in his hand. "I haven't had the time to get any more supplies, and with you over, I can't exactly call up my contact and request a blood delivery."

"I mean, you could," Rebecca said as he joined her at the table. "I wouldn't judge."

"I'm a little more worried about _them_ judging _you_ ," He said like he was obvious as he began to tear away the old, softened paper bag. His hair was ruffled drastically, falling into his eyes and sticking up in odd places. His skin was a strange grey colour, like a statue, or a gravestone. There were dark bags under his eyes, and if she didn't know any better, Rebecca would have thought that he hadn't slept in days. 

In another life, she would have made a joke about how grumpy he looked in the morning, how he looked like a baby bird still growing into his feathers with his hair all mused like that, and she would have reached over and ruffled his hair until he scowled at her and pulled away. But that was a very, very long time ago, back when Simon was a nerdy accounting student who played dungeons and dragons every fortnight and played in a band who could never settle on a name. But that was so long ago that it felt like a distant memory, and while Simon would always be her nerdy little brother, there was something to be said for how different he was now. It was almost like she didn't know him at all.

Rebecca felt her blood run cold when she saw him remove a rectangular bag with a crimson liquid inside, and wave it around like it was a coffee mug. "Besides," he continued. "I don't know if you'd be able to cope with all of my friends, anyways. Clary and Izzy are great, but Maia is a no-nonsense werewolf, and Jace is a prick. So really, they're more likely to tear you apart than actually be friends with you."

With mildly dawning horror, Rebecca watched as Simon's upper lip twitched and with a speed so incredible she almost missed it, his fangs dropped down from where they hid, nestled in his gums, and his tongue caressed them tenderly. They were bright white, like a baby's first teeth, when they were soft and fragile, but they ended in wickedly sharp points. She didn't want to think about what he had used them for. The thought made her a little sickly. "Magnus would probably like you because you're new and interesting and endearing, but he could only take you in small doses, like a normal person. And Alec would try and avoid you, but after a while, Magnus could convince him to be nice, and he'll come around, once he gets to know you. I'd like to say that he's come around to me, but who really knows?"

She swallowed heavily. "Uh, Simon?" She tried.

But, as he often did, Simon ignored her. "You and Jace probably wouldn't get along. He's not a hugger, and we Lewis's are. Alec is moody and grumpy. Maia is great, but she's a bit... you know what? I know better than to describe her unflatteringly. She'd probably find out and smash through the window to tear out my throat. Maia is lovely."

Without warning, Simon bit into the plastic bag and began to drain it of its content, his nostrils flared and his eyes dangerously dark.

Rebecca had worked at a hospital for a little while, and even if she had no idea what Simon was and what he was doing, she knew a bag of blood when she saw it.

In another life, she probably would have gagged, or at least turn away to burp sickly into her fist. Now, she watched him, mildly horrified and vaguely faint as Simon methodically gulped down the bag of cold, thick blood like it was a milkshake, never pausing for breath, using one of the tubes like a straw. It may have been her brother's peculiarity, but she had expected vampires to bite into blood bags as they bit into necks, the way Simon had bitten her so long ago, instead of using a staw.

Gross. Now she was more focused on wondering how her brother ingested his daily blood and not about the fact that he was an actual literal vampire. 

"Well," she said meekly as she swallowed back the bile that rose in her throat. "Feeling better now?"

He pulled away from the now-empty bag and rose his eyebrows at her, whipping the blood from the corner of his mouth and the slight trickle down his chin with the back of his hand. She glanced pointedly between him and the bag held limply in his hand, and she could practically see the cogs turning in his head as his face dropped in horror. "Oh- oh my- Becky, I'm so sorry-"

"Don't be," Rebecca had to laugh. Even after all this time, there were still things that never changed, and her being able to easily rile up her stupid little brother was one of them. "I've been asking you to let me into your world a little bit, and I'm glad I got to see it."

"Yeah, but..." he tried, looking horrified and concerned and ashamed all at once. 

She held up her hand to stop him. "Shut up. Now, you were saying some insulting thing about your friends?"

**3.**

It was actually Maia who told Rebecca about Simon's late-night gig at the Hunters Moon, and if she wasn't so excited, she probably would have been annoyed with him for not telling her himself.

Thankfully, Rebecca was well-liked in the Downworld community, despite being nothing but a filthy mundane who knew next to zero about their world past her very abnormal brother, so they made room for her and got her a seat right at the front, surrounded by the crowd but close enough that she could see how dirty her brother's shirt was. 

There were a couple of warlocks sitting on either side of her, and they kept sending her knowing looks on smiling facies and leaning over to whisper something to her, some gossip of unknown information about her brother. Maia came over between delivering drinks to tables, and they would laugh for a few moments before she was pulled away. Rebecca was glad that she was there- even though she was a werewolf and Simon's-ex or whatever- but she was a tie to the real-world in this club full of people straight out of a fantasy novel, someone who could make her feel comfortable and safe and like she belonged in this bar that was distinctly not for her.

Simon didn't notice her as he climbed up onto the small stage and began setting up his belongings, despite her wearing that perfume he had brought her for her last birthday that she was certain he could smell, and for the first time in a long time she just got to watch him be himself without him having to worry about her seeing something he wanted to keep hidden. Straight away, she knew that he felt much more comfortable around this crowd of people in this Downworlder club than he ever did in the real world. She watched him dance and laugh and tell his stupid jokes that most of the crowd laughed at, and she suddenly realized that this really was where he belonged. 

He played some new material that Rebecca had never heard before, and things that she had only heard bits and pieces of, and some of the stuff he played was things she had heard him build long ago, and even had performed in front of her before he presented them to the rest of the band. Not for the first time, she was glad that the band had fallen apart. He seemed much freer when he was performing as a solo act than he ever had when he was performing with the rest of his friends.

Maia approached and handed him a Bloody Mary that Rebecca knew by now was probably made with real blood, and she watched as his fangs darted out to clink against the side of the glass as he sipped at it. When he threw his head back in laughter, his little fangs glinted under the overhead lights. When he bit at his lip, they jutted out and dug into the flesh, almost poking holes. His movements were fluid, his voice was like liquid silk, his confidence was through the roof, and his jokes were just as bad as they always had been. 

During Maia's break, she sat down on at Rebecca's table with a heavy sigh. "Hey," she smiled, kicking her shoes off and resting her feet across another chair. "Are you enjoying the show? He's great, isn't he?"

"Yeah, he is. But he always has been," Rebecca answered. "Does he know I'm here yet?"

"I don't think so. I haven't told him at least, and he hasn't mentioned it," Maia replied, turning back to Simon. "Maybe when he finishes you can stand up and applaud him and force him to look at you."

"That's a great idea," Rebecca smirked. Simon was still dancing and singing and smiling. "I'm glad that he's finally found a place where he belongs, you know? He's always been looking for a place that would accept him for just being who he was, and he kind of found that with Clary, but I'm not sure it's the same anymore. But... I'm glad he's got that now."

Laughing, Maia reached over and wrapped her arms around Rebecca's shoulders. "Don't worry, we'll look after him for you."

And Rebecca was relieved that she believed her.

**4.**

Perhaps Rebecca should have recognised the group marching up to them as Downwolders from the moment she saw them and their dark expressions, but she was so enraptured by the pleasant lunch she was having with Simon, Clary and Isabelle that she didn't think for a second that they were coming towards them. 

"You won't believe what Jace did the other day," Clary was saying, brushing her hair behind her ear.

"I think I might," Isabelle laughed as she idly stirred her coffee. "If it's anything like Alec told me, then I hate to be him."

Maybe, now that her brother was a vampire and his friends were demon-hunting angels, she should have known to be more aware. But her brother was smiling for the first time in a long time, throwing his head back and laughing and clapping his hands in front of him as the chair rocked back on his hind legs. She finally got to hang out with Clary and Izzy, the two most important women in his life other than her, and honestly, she had just been having a really good day.

The light-hearted humour all stopped the moment the bell above the door jingled and Simon's smile fell from his face o be replaced by a stone-cold scowl. One by one, the girls followed his gaze, but a hand landed on Rebecca's shoulder before she could really react. "What have we got here?" she heard a drawl by her ear. "A couple of Nephlym, a Daylighter and a Mundane? Interesting."

Though the hand on her shoulder wasn't gripping her painfully, the icky tone of his voice still made her feel unsafe. So did the way Izzy adjusted the angle of her bracelet, and the way a hiss left Simon's mouth. "What do you want?" Clary was the one to ask, looking perturbed. 

"Nothing much," answered the voice. Rebecca hadn't even had the chance to turn around and see who was speaking with. She felt a breath against her ear, and the voice was suddenly much closer than before. "How about you and us get out of here, hm? Take you out, show you a good time. Have you ever partied with the fae before?"

"Back off," Izzy warned. "Do you remember the Accords at all? Not only are you hassling members of the Clave, but you're addressing a Mundane no less. Think about what you're doing, and then think again."

Rebecca heard chuckling behind her, so close and so deep that it almost reverberated through her chest, but over the laughed she heard the sound of splintering and cracking wood, and she glanced to see Simon's fingers gripped around the edge of the table, his fingers digging into the wood. "Lay off, Shadowhunter. We are well aware that you can't do jack to us, and that if you really cared about the Accords, you wouldn't be sitting here having lunch with a vampire and a mundane who shouldn't even know any of you exist. We know who you are. Your brother is dating Magnus Bane. You've got Luke Galloway and Maia Roberts in your corner. Not only have you got this one-" he jerked his thumb to Simon, "-but Raphael Santiago too. We're not scared of you, and we know that there's realistically nothing you can do to us."

"If it's all the same to you," Rebecca found the courage to speak up. "I'd like you to take your hand off me."

There was a long, tense pause. For a second, Rebecca regretted ever opening her mouth, but then the hand fell from her shoulder, trailing down her arm and over the back of her hand before finally leaving her completely. Though she didn't quite feel safe, the tension left her shoulders. "This Mundane has balls," another man said, and then there was murmuring. She thought for a moment that she saw Simon's lips quirk upwards, but then it was gone.

"I'm going to warn you one last time," Izzy said again, voice sharp and biting. "Turn around and leave and never come back."

"Listen, Shadoowhunter, we don't have to listen to you and we're not going anywhere-"

He was cut off by a chair sliding harshly against wood and then slamming onto the ground. She glanced over to see Simon, now standing, his eyes a deep crimson red and his fangs poking through his gums, a deep, menacing hiss leaving his lips that made a shiver run down her spine. "Leave," he growled, looking and sounding exactly like the predator Rebecca was constantly reminded that he was. " _Now_."

She wasn't sure how he did it, but she felt the men slowly leave, one by one moving away from behind her until the bell above the door rang again and the group of fae left without another word. 

Clary righted his chair and slowly, Simon lowered himself back down, his following the group through the windows. His hands slowly uncurled from around the table, and his eyes returned to their normal colour. Rebecca got another good look at his fangs, white and bright and sharp and threatening before they rose back up and returned to his upper gums. "Are you ok?"

"Me?" she blinked. "Yeah, I'm fine, thanks to you. My hero."

"Well, I wasn't just going to let them touch you like that," Simon frowned. "Or make you go with them. Fae can be... _tricky_ sometimes. Persuasive."

"Those morons should have known better," Izzy shrugged with a smile before crossing her legs and flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Now, what was I saying about Jace and Alec...?"

**5.**

She was just wandering idly through her apartment, moving from the kitchen to the bedroom to the loungeroom, checking the fridge and adjusting the bed cover and changing the channels, when the envelope slipped through the slot in the door and fell to rest on the doormat. 

Surprised, she placed her phone down on the kitchen counter and crossed the room to pluck it up. There was no return address, and no name other than her's printed on almost juvenile handwriting. It was written on thick, cream paper which smelled faintly of cinnamon and nutmeg and dusted with a faint shimmery powder.

Confused, she ripped the envelope open, and glitter fell gently to the ground. She tentatively pulled out the card, and a photo fell from the inside to land in her hand. 

The photo, to her absolute surprise, was of her little brother, standing in the middle of a group photo with the high walls of the Insitute behind him, grinning like a fool in that way that made his eyes scrunch up, his fangs out of his gums and pocking into his lower lip. He had one arm around Clary and the other around Isabelle. Isabelle looks glamorous, as always, and Clary is holding Jace's hand with her free one, while the golden-haired man seemed put-out and reluctant to be there. Luke stood behind Clary, his hands on her shoulders, grinning broadly. Alec stood beside Isabelle, grinning in a rare pose for the camera, and beside him, Magnus looked fabulous and the only one besides Simon and Clary who looked happy to be there. Sparks fell, stationary, from his raised hand. On the table before them was a lit menorah, blazing with different coloured flames. In the background, fuzzy in the corner, was a Christmas tree.

On the verge of tears, Rebecca ran her finger across her brothers grinning, pale face. He looked happy, and she was glad. His fangs were out, and she knew that he only did that for the photo because he knew how much she liked them. 

_Happy Haunika!_ the card read in Simon's familiar writing and seeing it made her ache something fierce. _I miss you, but I'll see you soon! Don't forget about me all the way out in Florida. I love you, Becky!_

She displaced the card on her bedside table and put the photo in a frame so her little brother was always close, no matter how far apart they were.

**01.**

She had no idea what, or how, it happened. 

One second, she was walking home from the Hunters Moon after helping Maia out for the night, and the next she was being grabbed and dragged into an alley, her clothes tugged on and her hair pulled and a hand wrapped around her mouth.

She hit the ground hard, and she felt pain explode behind her eyelids. Her hair caught between her lips and when she tried to flail, her arms got stuck in her coat, and a group of alcohol-smelling men stood above and around her, laughing and arguing and jeering at her as she struggled to get her bearings. She made to sit up, but a foot on her chest pushed her back down to the cold, dirty concrete. 

With her ears ringing and panic beating in her veins, she did the only thing she could think of to do.

She threw her head back, took the deepest breath she could muster, and screamed, at the top of her lungs, with as much volume and fear and energy that she could, _"Simon!"_

The men stopped their jeering to look down at her, and she felt that fear gnawing at her bones, so un-natural, so unfamiliar and still so all-consuming, and then the face of the man looming above her was gone. Just... gone. 

Slowly, painfully slowly, she took a deep breath, so deep her chest ached. She blinked, and suddenly, all sound returned to her- screaming, the pounding of feet, the tearing of something that wasn't meant to be torn, the wet and weighty _thump!_ of something too human hitting the floor. Deep, guttural growling, frightening hissing, snapping sounds, ripping sounds, cracking sounds, slurping sounds. 

As she slowly tried to sit up, her vision was immediately filled with the face of another man, but this was one she recognised. Simon knelt above her, his brown hair dishevelled and his warm eyes full of concern. Blood ran from his chin and down his neck, pooling at the corners of his mouth and slowly flowing down his pale skin to join the rest of the red mess in his shirt. 

"Becky?" he was saying, worried eyes searching her face for something she couldn't pin-point, gently palpitating the back of her head with his hand, fingers flexing and combing through her hair. "Becky? Are you OK? Are you hurt?"

While she appreciated his concern, she was still focused on the blood that poured from his mouth down his chin, and she tentatively raised a hand to touch his face. His fingers wrapped around hers to stop her. "You're bleeding," she managed. "What happened?"

Simon could have almost laughed. "It's not my blood. You're alright."

"Where...?" she tried to sit up, but his arms around her kept her still in his lap. "Where did they go...?"

"Don't worry, they're gone," his voice was strangely resolute. "You're safe now, OK?"

"How did you know to come for me?" she asked as she was suddenly aware of commotion around her. Jace and Alec were arguing behind her, and over Simon's shoulder, Isabelle was standing sentry with her shoulders back and her golden whip coiling against the ground like an angry viper. By her feet were piles and pools of dark shapes. Clary came into her field of vision, smiling softly and crouching down beside her and Simon, looking her over silently and placing a hand on Simon's shoulder. He was taught like a wire, nearly vibrating with the tension, but his hands were gentle and tender where they touched her. 

He smiled ruefully as he brushed her hair away from her face and out of her mouth, his hands oddly sticky and his skin strangely cold. "We were at Magnus's, and I heard you call my name, so I came straight away. Then I smelt blood, and I thought- I don't know. It's alright now, you're fine."

"What were they?" She asked. "Vampires? Werewolves? Shadowhunters?"

"Mundanes," he said. "They were just mundanes."

"Thank you," she breathed as she nuzzled into his side. "I was worried."

"So was I," he laughed, sounding strained. "But there's nothing to worry about any more. I took care of it for you. You're safe. "I've got you."

Puzzle pieces began to click into place, from the shapes by Isabelle's feet and the hushed but harried whispering of Jace and Alec and the way Clary was blocking her view to the way sticky blood slowly dried against Simon's skin, splattered across his face and down his chin. She searched for his fangs, but just this once, as she finally made sense of what had really happened, she was glad that she didn't see them.

"Thanks," she said again. "My hero."

"Any time," he replied, combing his fingers through his hair. "I'll be here for you at any time."


End file.
